ღ Finding Cinderella- 6 ღ
-Kylie-
I couldn't understand myself. I mean, I had sworn to death that I would never feel the same way as before, but why did I still get shivers down my spine whenever I thought of his name?
Frustrated, I snapped the scissors in haste and accidentally divided the supposedly heart-shaped cardboard cutout in half. Uh-oh.
"Harris, seriously, what on earth are you doing?" Marie Crandall, the president of the literary club, gasped behind me. "This is your fifth time ruining the cutouts. Look, I really appreciate that you're trying to help us, but please don't play around. We spent long hours making those."
"Sorry," I said, sending her an awkward, apologetic smile. "I won't screw up this time, I promise."
Sighing, Marie pushed her glasses up her nose and walked back to her table.
I mentally slapped myself as I returned to my work. It might come as a surprise that I was part of the literary club. Actually, I had been in the girls baseball team until I beat up some bitch named Ella Tudor for making up a rumor about my sister being an "easy girl," and the incident booted me out of the only sport I was good at. So, I had landed in this club where everyone was chill and less physically aggressive. I hardly read and write literature (the only classic books that I actually liked were The Secret Garden and The Babysitters Club), but hey, I gotta do what I gotta do to spruce up my college application.
I had been cutting these colored papers for hours just to distract myself from thinking about Erik's face, but no matter what I did, I still couldn't get him out of my mind.
Fantastic.
After a while, Julianne went to my area and said, "Hey, let's go grab some snacks. I'm getting hungry."
I stood up from my cross-legged position and patted my pants. "Sure thing. My throat feels like sandpaper right now."
On the way to the cafeteria, we noticed that the hallways were packed with students roaming around, carrying streamers, boxes, balloons, stage props, and any other materials. Most classes had been on hold for the day since everyone's minds were focused on the Valentine Ball.
"So, Ky, what's up with you these days?" Julianne asked as we got in the lunch line.
I grabbed a sandwich from a tray, asking, "What do you mean?"
She took some mango tarts, a pineapple pie, some chicken nuggets, two packs of Oreos, and a tuna sandwich. Then she ordered a bottle of Coke to the lady behind the counter before answering, "You've been spacing out a lot lately."
As she said it, my memory rolled back to the past again. All of my mental training on "How to Forget the Guy Who Rejected You" had suddenly disappeared the moment I had seen Erik in that alley.
"Oh, Jules," I groaned. "You might find this crazy, but a few days ago, I ran into Erik in the city."
"The Erik?"
"Yes. The Erik. And I literally ran into him."
For a split second, a strange look of discomfort appeared in her eyes before it was replaced by a gleam of excitement. "Whoa. That's not just crazy. That's crazy interesting! Just imagine—after all these years, you met him again!"
I gave her a dead stare. "You've always known that he's back, haven't you?"
Her look of discomfort came back, it took her a moment to come up with an honest reply. "Er, actually... yes. He's in my Mandarin class. I just didn't have the heart to tell you because the last time you faced each other, it was a catastrophe."
Ugh. So both Julianne and Tristan were keeping the same secret from me. "I know. I get it," I said with another groan.
"But anyway, what happened next? Did you guys talk?" she asked.
"No. I freaked out and ran away. It was embarrassing."
"Oh my. Does that mean you still haven't moved on from him?"
I couldn't help but be flustered. "No! Shut up, Julianne."
Crap. Was I really still into Erik? No way! I had been on the verge of success, almost forgetting everything in the past, but why did he have to come back? A part of me desperately wished I had never bumped into him. It was obvious that he was still not interested in me. If he was, he would have talked to me the day he had come back to school.
I shut my eyes and shook my head, trying to push the memory away.
"Let's stop talking about this. I'm uncomfortable with emotions," I said and she only smirked in amusement.
We reached the cashier and paid for our snacks. I looked at Julianne's tray and rolled my eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if one day she bought all the goods on the menu. After all, she was quite well known for buying nearly the entire cafeteria without thinking about the price.
We started eating our snacks all the way back, and then I said, "Hey, why don't we check Lacey, see how she's doing?"
"But we might interrupt their rehearsal."
"We're just gonna take a quick peek. Come on. I think she's in the dance studio."
As soon as we arrived, I poked my head through the half-open door. The room was huge and a bit dim, and the warm air was mixed with the scent of sweat and perfume, making my nose itch. There was Lacey on a chair near the wall mirrors. She was alone. I waved my hand and she motioned us to come in.
"Hey, how's the practice going?" I asked.
Lacey had her hair pulled up in a bun, and I could see the beads of sweat rolling down her face and neck. "It's okay. Just a few steps to master and we're done," she answered with a lazy smile.
I grabbed a towel from her bag and slid it under her damp shirt on her back. "You have to change your clothes as soon as you're done, okay? Otherwise, you'll catch another cold." I noticed that her skin felt too warm.
Lacey rolled her eyes, amused. "You're such a worrywart, Mom."
"Why are you alone here, Lace? Where are the others?" Julianne asked as she walked around the studio, observing.
"They went out to eat. I stayed here to rest. I feel kind of dizzy." Lacey rubbed her temples. I offered her my food, but she shook her head. "Thanks. I'm good."
Julianne whirled around to face us, her hair flying around her. "Oh, speaking of others... how's your partner? Is he a hottie?"
Lacey flashed me a quick look as if to give me a secret message. Then she turned back to Julianne, saying, "Hmm, on a scale of ten, I think he's eleven."
The redhead laughed. "You think he's much hotter than Clark?"
Blushing, Lacey answered, "Of course not. Clark's fifteen for me."
I looked at them with a disapproving frown.
"What's the name of your dance partner, anyway?" I asked.
"Can't tell. As I said, the King and Queen's identities are a secret to everybody, until the dance starts." Lacey turned to me with a knowing smile. "I wish you'd change your mind and attend the ball, Ky. You'll miss something major."
I shrugged. "I don't care. I'll find out soon anyway."
The noise from the outside interrupted us, and we figured Lacey's colleagues were returning to the studio. Lacey bid us goodbye, then we started to leave. As Julianne and I walked out the door, my heart skipped a beat as I caught a glimpse of Erik.
ღ
"Oh, regarding the Valentine Ball," Mom said as she took the last of the casserole. "Kylie, didn't Tristan ask you to go with him the other day?"
The spoon of meatloaf stopped halfway to my mouth. Oh no, if Tristan had told her everything from two days ago...
Lacey stared at me, mouth hanging open. "Really, sis?"
"What? No, he absolutely did not," I stammered, quickly shaking my head. "Why would he even ask me out? Face it, Mom, Tristan would never do that."
Lies. Well, okay, maybe just half lies since he hadn't asked me so much as forced me into the ball, but still...
Mom shrugged, munched, and said, "I thought I heard something about it. It made sense, you two being so close and all."
I tried not to gag. When would she see that weren't that close after all? She had always thought of us as being five-year-old best friends playing in a sandbox or something, but there was no way Tristan and I could even stay in the same room without ending up at each other's throats.
"Anyway, your Aunt Jacqueline called," Mom announced. "It's about your college."
Aunt Jacque was the oldest in their sibling group and the only one residing outside the country. She was cool and filthy rich, being single (for some reason) and reportedly earning six figures a year from developing computer programs. Hearing about her made me feel excited.
"What did she say?" I asked.
Then Mom said with a smile, "She's been thinking of helping you to get into the medical program in Imperial. Financial-wise."
"Wow," Lacey breathed.
I felt my soul dancing on cloud nine. Imperial College. My dream school since I was a little girl. It was far away and difficult to get into, as people said, that was why I'd been saving up money from the odd jobs I picked up every summer, and I'd been studying extra hard this year. The labor was no joke. There were times that I got too anxious because I felt like I was failing despite doing my best, but I would never give up on this one. I craved to be a doctor. Ever since my Dad passed away due to heart failure, I had wanted to save human lives, like a modern-day Wonder Woman in a white coat.
"No way, that's awesome! I should give her a call," I said, unable to contain my joy.
"Yes, you should," replied Mom. "She's been extremely kind to you two and has been supporting your needs despite her living in London, so you should communicate with her as often as possible to make her feel appreciated."
"Okay."
"And, Kylie, I don't think a simple 'thank you' would be enough for the help she's offering, but perhaps you"—Mom raised her pointing finger at me—"acing your math class would be."
My smile froze, then slowly it faded away. Before I could stop it, a groan escaped my lips. Math. Calculus. The biggest hindrance of all.
Lacey made a fist-pump in the air to give me a confidence boost. "You can do it, Kylie."
Well, it seemed like I needed a miracle to do that.
ღ
Even though I didn't want to go to school on the night of the ball, I still had to, for the sake of my sister. I had helped her carry her dress and other important things to school, and now I was stuck here in this dressing room. Honestly, a part of me wanted to see her perform later, maybe even cheer her on, but the larger part of me was adamant about my decision. I didn't have the energy to face anyone I might bump into—a.k.a. Erik or Tristan.
Speaking of Tristan, what was wrong with him? Okay, a lot was wrong with him, but he had definitely looked like an enraged Spartacus at my front door Valentine's Day evening. To be frank, I had no idea the chase around the city would have had such an effect on him.
Jeez. That guy could be so weird sometimes, and that night had been no exception. He'd been speaking nonsense, spouting weird answers such as his response when I had pressed him about never liking someone for real. Those words had slipped right off my tongue actually, and I had thought he would only laugh his ass off about it, but instead, in a serious tone, he had replied:
"But what if I have?"
Please. Who would actually believe that? He was a playboy, for crying out loud. I just hoped that he hadn't meant he was messing with another girl again.
A knock distracted me from my trance. Clark entered the room, eyes scanning around. I hated to admit it, but he looked good in his blue suit, with his brown hair gelled into place.
As he saw me, he sucked in his breath and said, "Kylie. Hi. Uh, where's Lacey?"
"Next room." I jerked my head to the door on the left and glowered at him. "Why?"
He began sweating bullets. "Oh. Well, I just wanna check her if... you know, she's okay and all. I just want to make sure."
I crossed my arms. "She's okay, Clark. Now go back to your friends."
"But I need to see..." He trailed off and shook his head. "Anyway, why aren't you dressed yet? The program will start in a few minutes."
"I'm going home once Lacey's done with all her preparations. I don't have plans to attend the dance, just so you know." He'd better not be proposing the idea of driving Lacey home after the event. Who knew what he would do with her? I'd already asked Julianne to escort my sister post-party because she was the only one I could trust.
I narrowed my eyes at him. He was still standing stiffly by the door. "Are you really gonna stand there and wait for her?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Yes."
"Give up already, Clark. Leave my sister alone. God, I've said this to you like fifty times. She. Is. Not. Allowed. To. Date. Period," I said, striking my left hand with my right fist to emphasize each word.
"Kylie, I know you care about her deeply, but with all due respect, you have no right—"
Clark was cut short when garbled noises from the next room came, and it sounded like they were calling Lacey's name in distress. He snapped his head up and dashed toward the source. Perturbed, I followed after him. When he pushed the door open, my eyes grew wide.
Lacey was lying unconscious in the arms of a girl dressed in white. Another girl on the side, a brunette wearing a blue cocktail dress, was fanning my sister with a magazine.
"What happened?" Clark shouted as he made his way to Lacey.
I ran to the other side, my heart pounding so hard in my chest. "Lacey? Lacey?" I quickly checked her. She had no scratches or whatever physical injuries—thank God—, but as I touched her, I realized she was burning hot.
"We don't know!" the girl in white cried. "She was about to get her dress when she fainted."
"Are you girls ready?" a loud voice called from the door, and a guy with curly auburn hair entered the scene. Steven Davis—the school body president. He was also wearing a black tux, and on his back were little—what were those, fake wings? Seeing the turmoil, he took a step back in surprise. "What the actual—"
I squeezed Lacey's clammy hands. "She fainted because of high fever," I informed them, catching my breath. "We need to get her to the clinic."
So that was why she had been so quiet and tired lately. Lacey had been working hard for the ball that she hadn't even checked her condition. Why did she keep this a secret?
"Let me," Clark said. The girls moved away as he began carrying her bridal style.
"Ugh, darn it," Steven whined. "What about the dance? We only have forty minutes left!"
Clark sent him a sharp glare. "Lacey's health is much more important than the dance, Steven. Find a replacement."
"That's what I'm thinking!"
Seething, Clark walked out of the room with Lacey still lying in his arms. I was about to rush after him, but a hand caught my shoulder.
"You! You're Kylie Harris, right?" Steven demanded. I could feel the agitation from his grip.
"Y-yeah," I mumbled.
"Do you know how to waltz?"
"Of course no—"
He snapped his fingers. "Perfect!"
"What!"
He jabbed his thumb at me, nodding at the girls who were petrified in the corner. "Len, Krystelle. Get her. Now!"
I was so screwed.